


In All Possible Worlds

by gakorogirl



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - Harry Potter Setting, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-22
Updated: 2016-05-29
Packaged: 2018-06-10 03:20:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6937546
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gakorogirl/pseuds/gakorogirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In so many universes, they cross paths. They talk for a while. Often, they fall in love.</p><p>A collection of my fics for 2016 Hartmon Week!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Day One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which silver marks appear where your soulmate touches you, and in which Hartley and Cisco bond twice and die once.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the first chapter, I hope you guys like it!! It's set in the post-Flash Back timeline, as opposed to the original timeline, although there's still the whole deal with Barry resetting time at least once. Hope that's not too confusing...

Hartley looks right through Cisco, most of the time. And when he doesn’t, it’s with a look that could kill a Rancor. Generally, the look is directed towards whichever shirt Cisco’s wearing that day. Or towards the coffee he’s drinking in front of the computer, even though they _technically_ aren’t supposed to have it in the lab, but hey, you’ve gotta have something to stay awake.

And so of course, Cisco starts to avoid Hartley as much as possible. He hangs around Caitlin and Ronnie, and only rarely catches himself staring at the matching silver splotches on their palms. He wonders if it hurts- some people say it does, but parents and teachers and other responsible adults deny it. (He could ask, of course, but that would be _really_ awkward.  _“So I was wondering about, uh, your connection on the deepest possible level with another person,”_ and all that.)

People have all kinds of soul marks, always silvery white but different in every other way. Cisco notices them, even though he knows he maybe shouldn’t, but they’re just so bright and _shiny-_ except when they aren’t. Take Dr. Wells, his mark, a blotch on his cheekbone, is tarnished black. 

Hartley vanishes only a few days before the particle accelerator goes online. He vanishes only a few days before the particle accelerator rips a hole in the city. He vanishes only a few days before the world changes forever. Cisco could almost miss him- it was weird, not having Hartley glare at him for something, and when the accelerator starts to fall apart Cisco glances at Hartley’s computer, expecting to see the other man typing frantically. But there’s nobody there, and Ronnie is shouting something, and Cisco turns away.

He wasn’t expecting Hartley to come back, with fancy sonic gloves and a name that… okay, _might_ be better than what Cisco was going to go with, but that’s besides the point. The point is that it’s Cisco’s job to name metas, and not-so-metas. (Does Hartley have meta powers? If he does, he’s good at hiding it.) 

And of course, he _very definitely_ didn’t expect Barry to appear from the _future,_ and what Barry tells him before he runs back into the time stream.

_Ronnie’s alive._

But that can’t be right, can it? Cait’s soul mark isn’t all the way black, but it’s dark and dull and there’s a red-blackness at the edges, spreading into the middle. Cisco always assumed that soul marks turned black when your soulmate died, but now he thinks maybe the darkness comes from a broken heart. 

Cait’s mark turns a brilliant silver again, when Ronnie finally comes home. Ronnie has two marks now, there’s an extra one on his left forearm that’s very faint, but silvery and bright.

Meanwhile, Hartley is still in his cell in the Pipeline, at the insistence of Dr. Wells. Cisco talks to him, sometimes, and once you get past the layers of sarcasm and the general… villainous demeanor, Hartley’s actually pretty fun to be around. (He hates Dumbledore even more than Cisco does.)

Cisco talks to Caitlin, and Caitlin talks to Barry, and one afternoon when Dr. Wells is out, they open the pipeline. “Thanks,” says Hartley with an edge in his voice, but Cisco’s gotten better at seeing through Hartley’s sarcasm.

“You’re welcome,” he says, with the same tone, and Hartley smiles.

“I don’t suppose you’d give back my-”

“Nope.”

They let Hartley out while Dr. Wells is gone, and over the days and the weeks Cisco grows more suspicious. And it occurs to Cisco that _just maybe,_ Hartley would be able to solve a problem that’s been bothering him for weeks. 

He convinces Cait to distract Wells, while Barry’s away dealing with the _Weather Wizard_ (Cisco’s very proud of that name.) He takes Hartley to look at the containment field, and replays the hologram from that night.

“ _Oh, I’m not like the Flash at all,”_ says the hologram, and there’s a quiet voice from the back of the room.

“Some would say I’m the reverse.”

Out of everything rushing through Cisco’s head, _Wells isn’t paralyzed??_ is, surprisingly, not the most prominent. Neither is _I’m so fucked. I’m so fucked._

Actually, out of all the thoughts tumbling around as Wells steps forwards, Cisco’s loudest thought is, _Maybe Hartley can sneak away. Maybe he can still get out._

“You’re incredibly clever, Cisco. I’ve always said so.” Wells- or _whatever_ his name is- nods at Hartley. “You too. I’m… glad to see you’ve finally learned to work together.” His attention is on Cisco again now, and Hartley begins to edge away, circling around the room. Wells doesn’t seem to notice, and he keeps walking towards Cisco. _Maybe he knows he can catch Hartley,_ thinks Cisco despairingly.

“You and I have never been truly, properly introduced,” says Wells. “I am Eobard Thawne.”

Cisco’s brain turns into a maelstrom, and he asks questions he knows the answers to. This day is impossible enough already, and now Wells- Thawne, _Thawne_ is going to kill him. He’s going to die. He’s going to die.

“In many ways, you have shown me what it’s like to have a son.”

And Cisco doesn’t have time to yell to Hartley, who is almost at the door and is holding a phone ( _isn’t that my phone? how did he even-)_ and recording the exchange with wide and horrified eyes. Cisco only has time to choke out a syllable that could be a _Hart-_

Hartley runs forwards, and Thawne whips around, and Cisco can feel the warmth leaking out of his heart, Hartley somehow dodges underneath Thawne’s hand- _Thawne can’t use the Speed Force all the time, can he? If he could, he could just go home, Hartley can outrun him now-_ but instead of running Hartley grabs Cisco’s arm, and his fingers brush against Cisco’s skin at the edge of his sleeve and it suddenly burns like touching a hot stove, and Hartley’s fingers turn silver as Cisco’s vision fades to black.

And Cisco has his answer- touching your soulmate for the first time hurts. But it sure as _hell_ doesn’t hurt as much as getting punched in the heart.

* * *

“His name is Barry Allen,” chokes Cisco, and there are tears on his face. _I’m a traitor,_ he thinks, and he barely pays attention to what happens around him- Lisa Snart bundles both brothers into a van, one to a hospital and one dropped off in a parking lot a few blocks from STAR Labs.

Cisco doesn’t know if he deserves to go back there. But at least, everyone else deserves to know he’s alive. When he finally stumbles into the lab, his legs aching with bruises from being tied, he’s surprised to see Hartley standing there, and he’s even more surprised at what happens next- or is he? 

“Cisco?”  
  
Hartley grabs Cisco by the wrist, and suddenly it feels like he’s just brushed against a hot oven, and burning silver spreads across his skin and Hartley’s fingers alike. Cisco would have fainted- but this feels familiar somehow, it feels like a misplaced memory. But he’s never touched Hartley before.

Hartley lets go of his wrist, and Cisco almost laughs at the other man’s dumbfounded expression. But he has something _even more important_ than soul marks to deal with, and he turns to Barry with his face falling.

But in the end, everything turns out _right._ In the end, he still has a lingering feeling of guilt, but it’s mostly drowned out, because _finally_ Cisco’s found his soulmate, and he thinks his soul mark is the shiniest one he’s ever seen (actually, maybe Hartley’s is shinier. When he tries to compare them, Hartley rolls his eyes and pulls his hand away, but he laughs anyway. Either way, they’ve got the _best_ soul marks. The best ones ever.)


	2. Day Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Hartley and Cisco track the shady Arithmancy professor to a secret passageway, and proceed to have a duel that I probably had way too much fun writing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No, my knowledge of Harry Potter jinxes is not embarrassing. Also, this really needed to be a longfic instead of a one-shot, so I think there might be some problems with the pacing...
> 
> Hope you guys enjoy though!

“This is a bad, bad plan,” said Cisco as they stopped in front of the bricked-up archway. “Seriously, I have no words to describe how awful this plan is. Couldn’t you get Barry or someone to help you investigate... whatever this is?”

Hartley shrugged. “Really, Cisquito? Everyone knows you’re the _master_ of terrible plans.” After a pause, he added, “And, well, Barry and Caitlin aren’t suspicious of Professor Wells. Yet.”

“Don’t call me that,” muttered Cisco under his breath as he tapped at the bricks with the tip of his wand. “So, do you... have any idea how to get in here?”

Leaning forwards to squint at the bricks, Hartley frowned. “Of course I do,” he told Cisco, sounding less than confident. Cisco snickered quietly.

“You’re telling me the _great Hartley Rathaway_ didn’t plan far enough ahead to actually open the creepy secret passageway?”

* * *

 

“Shut up,” snapped Hartley. “I saw Wells pass through the wall, maybe it’s an illusion? _Finite Incantatum,”_ he tried, jabbing at the bricks. Nothing happened except a small burst of sparks.

Cisco continued to poke at the bricks. “I think they’re real,” he said. “Wells must have used a phasing spell to get through the wall.” A smile slowly broke across his face, and he stepped back, pointing his wand at the wall.

“ _Reducto!”_

With a cracking, crumbling noise, the wall shrank, and mortar crumbled off of it in a cloud of dust. Cisco coughed, pulling his scarf up over his nose and mouth, and when the dust cleared the archway was gaping open.

“This must be one of those sealed passageways the ghosts are always talking about,” said Cisco, holding up his wand in an attempt to see into the darkness.

“Ready to go in?” asked Hartley with a small smile.

“You should’ve been in Gryffindor,” said Cisco.

“I’d have to share a dorm with Barry, though,” Hartley said. “He talks too much. _Protego Horribilis,”_ he added, and a bubble of light bloomed quickly over them and disappeared.

“Let’s go.”

The passage was dark and smelled of stone and damp, and even walking through it made Cisco’s spine prickle. He took a quick glance at Hartley, but the other boy was staring straight ahead, stone-faced. His green eyes were very bright in the glow from their raised wands. 

Suddenly, the passage opened up, and Cisco couldn’t see the ceiling in the wandlight. “This looks like the end,” said Hartley, and Cisco’s heart _thumped_ very painfully before he realized that Hartley had meant the end of the passageway.

“Wish we had more light,” said Cisco, and as if on cue, torches flared to yellow-orange life along the walls of the room. And at the far end of the room, standing between a pair of tall shelves, was Professor Wells.

_Clap. Clap. Clap._

_“_ I supposed one of you would figure it out soon enough,” he said, and laughed quietly as Cisco and Hartley took an identical step backwards. “But not _both_ of you, and I certainly wasn’t expecting to see you work together.”

“Well,” said Cisco, trying to control his shaking hands, “You know what they say about desperate times.” Hartley seemed to be looking around the cave, sniffing the air carefully.

“It’s not as if you can prove I’m doing anything wrong,” said Wells easily. “So if I were you, I’d run back to your beds before you’re caught out. I believe I could make a good case for expulsion-”

“ _ACCIO POLYJUICE POTION!”_

Cisco whipped around as Hartley raised his wand, and a small flask came hurtling off of one of the shelves at terrifying speed. Lunging forwards, Cisco caught it by the tips of his fingers. 

“We can’t prove anything?” he asked, getting a better grip on the vial. The potion inside was an acorn brown, and bubbling slowly. “Really? You _really_  had to go and say-”

“Cisco,” said Hartley warningly. Turning to Wells, he said, “I don’t understand. How could you make Polyjuice when the real Harrison Wells has been dead for nearly ten years?”

(” _What_?” gasped Cisco in the background, looking between Hartley and Wells.)

“Oh, a little improvisation, a little Muggle science,” said Wells. “I won’t need it for much longer, only a few more weeks.” He stepped forwards, something like a snarl distorting his face. “ _Stupefy!”_

Cisco tackled Hartley out of the way, and both boys went skidding across the stone floor. “Ow,” muttered Hartley. He lunged out from underneath Cisco and hissed, “ _Incarcerous!”_

With a flick of his wand, Wells created a protective bubble around himself, and the ropes shooting out of Hartley’s wand glanced off. Hartley and Cisco staggered to their feet as Wells began to move forwards again, his eyes cold.

“ _Langlock!”_ snapped Cisco as Wells raised his wand again, and the professor growled as his mouth snapped shut. Hartley charged towards him, drawing in breath for a curse, but Wells only laughed. Another quick movement of his wand, and Hartley crashed to the ground, screaming. His hands were clamped over his ears.

And Cisco was alone. _He’ll just shield himself again, no matter what I do,_ he thought as he stepped backwards. Hartley’s screams had subsided into a faint whimpering.

Cisco took a deep breath and pointed his wand at Wells, who stopped and raised an eyebrow. “Really, Cisco? You’re still going to try and stop me?” he said, his speech still slightly slurred by Hartley’s hex.

“ _Confringo!”_ gasped Cisco, and flames burst out of his wand and rolled over the barrier that Wells hastily summoned between them. “ _Stupefy!”_ Cisco said as the barrier weakened. He had a brief moment to enjoy Wells’ surprised expression before the professor was thrown across the room by the force of the spell.

“Hartley!” Cisco shouted, running across the floor. “ _Finite Incantatum!”_

Hartley rolled onto his back, breathing hard. “Where’s Wells?” he asked, rubbing at his ears. His eyes were slightly unfocused, but his speech seemed coherent.

“I Stunned him, it’s okay,” said Cisco. “Oh man, nobody’s gonna believe us! We’ll get expelled-”

“Cisquito,” sighed Hartley, shaking his head in _that superior way, “_ You half-bloods always forget about _magic._ A truth potion to either of us, or to Wells, should clear this whole thing up.”

“Right,” said Cisco, relaxing. “I guess we should tie him up now, he’ll be coming awake any minute now. Also, I’m _really_ hungry.”

Hartley laughed- and Cisco realized he hadn’t ever heard Hartley laugh before. It was a nice laugh, deep in his throat. “We’ll stop by the kitchens after everything settles down,” he said.

“Sounds good to me,” answered Cisco, helping Hartley to his feet. _Wait, are we actually friends now?_

The sudden realization was _probably_ the most unexpected part of the entire night. Although the whole Wells-impersonating-a-dead-dude thing was up there, too.


	3. Day Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Reverb breaks into Hartley's house to flirt with him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is much shorter than the other two, just a quick little thing I wrote before I vanish from the internet to avoid finale spoilers~

Hartley sank onto his couch without bothering to turn the lights on, exhausted. He wasn’t sure why he even kept going to these conferences, when he could get grants just as well through simply writing his papers and sending them off. 

But he supposed there _was_ something exciting about the chance to see other experts in their fields, and _Harrison Wells_ had even been at this one. He’d given a short talk about dark matter- Hartley had wanted to ask a few questions, but the conversation had turned to the possible effects of the particle accelerator explosion and Wells had vanished almost immediately.

* * *

 

Hartley was so focused on the events of the day that he didn’t notice the movement as the door to his flat swung open, and didn’t notice the stranger leaning casually against the doorframe until said stranger flicked on the lights.

“Reverb,” he hissed as the metahuman began to walk towards him. Reverb stopped and raised his hands, palm-out.

“I just want to talk,” said Reverb smoothly. “Were you thinking of going out the fire escape?”

Hartley stood silently, and Reverb sighed. “You could at least say something,” he snapped. At least when he was irritated he sounded more _human._

“Why are you here?”

Holding up two fingers, Reverb said, “Number one. I wanted to congratulate you on your treatise on interdimensional energy. There’s not many people who can explain it so clearly.”

There was a long pause, and Hartley narrowed his eyes. “What’s number two?  
 he asked. “Or did you not think of it beforehand?”

 _Bad move,_ he thought immediately. Zoom’s right-hand man was _not_ a good person to provoke, and Reverb tilted his head, slowly. Hartley stiffened.

“Relax,” said Reverb. He turned away, staring out the window, and Hartley wondered if he should run. From what he’d heard of Reverb’s abilities, though, he wouldn’t get far.

“You know my name. Did you know I can see every universe, every _Earth?_ Some of them are beautiful, some of them are terrible. So many, many worlds,” mused Reverb. Hartley kept his face deadpan, void of any disbelief or confusion.

“So,” said Reverb, whirling back towards Hartley with a clap of his hands. Hartley flinched, briefly. “I’ve seen you quite a few times, too. But never in this world. Never in _my_ world.”

Reverb’s goggles glowed briefly, and he smiled. “Here’s my number.” He held out a scrap of paper to Hartley, who took it, utterly bemused. And then Reverb was gone, and Hartley was left standing in the middle of his flat with the door swinging back and forth in a cold draft.

(He kept the number, but he never got the chance to call.)


	4. Day Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Hartley tries to go to work in a hurricane, and Cisco decorates cupcakes to look like tiny galaxies.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy final day of Hartmon Week, everyone! I'm marking this fic as complete for now, although I might do another prompt or two later. Hope you enjoy~

Hartley sprinted through the pouring rain, leaning forwards against the wind. _Damn,_ it was cold, and he was _soaking_ wet, and the wind was too strong to even risk opening an umbrella. But still, he absolutely had to get to work today, to finish up the last tests on the structure of the-

Lightning arched through the sky somewhere nearby, and the ground trembled. Hartley frowned, looking up at the black sky (a mistake, as his glasses were immediately covered in freezing raindrops) and as another bolt of lightning crashed nearby, he ducked inside the nearest shop.

“How can I help-” Cisco started, looking up from his phone. (He didn’t usually spend time on his phone during work hours, but who was going to show up at a bakery in the middle of a hurricane?) He trailed off as he saw the young man leaning back against the door, hair plastered over his eyes and suit dripping onto the floor.

“I’m just here to wait for the storm to let up a little,” said the man, in what Cisco thought was a more hostile tone than strictly necessary. He started to pace impatiently across the fire, and Cisco winced as he saw water puddling across the (newly cleaned) tiles. 

After a few minutes, the storm showed no signs of subsiding. “My name’s Cisco,” said Cisco, breaking the silence. “Cisco Ramon.”

“Hartley Rathaway,” muttered the other man with an irritated look through his glasses. Now that he had started to dry out, Cisco could see that he was really… well, pretty cute. And- wait.

“Hartley Rathaway? Like the _physicist?”_ asked Cisco, leaning forwards over the counter, and Hartley raised an eyebrow as he nodded slowly. “Dude, I read one of your papers just the other day, and-”

“Impressive,” said Hartley, cutting him off, and looked out at the streets again. The warm smell of baked goods that he had noticed as soon as he entered the store was becoming overpowering, and if he was going to be stuck here until the rain let up, perhaps he could buy something.

Hartley walked to the glass display case and looked at the rows of tempting cookies and brownies, trying to seem indifferent. A plate of cupcakes with sparkling indigo frosting and elaborate galaxy motifs caught his eye, and he bent down for a closer look. 

Every cake was carefully frosted, and the galaxies were made from silver frosting and tiny pearls- every one different, but every one symmetrical and, well, perfect. “You like the galaxy cupcakes? I decorate them myself,” said the young man behind the counter, and Hartley looked up. 

Cisco took a quick breath and added, “You can have one on the house, if you want. I mean, if you don’t want one-”

“I’ll pay for it,” said Hartley, taking out his wallet and counting out a few bills. Cisco nodded, taking quick glances at Hartley as he popped what he thought was the best of the cupcakes into a white cardboard box. Before he folded up the flaps, Cisco took a moment to scribble his number onto a scrap of paper and tuck it inside (because hey, you never know.)

“Looks like the weather’s starting to improve,” he said with a smile as he handed Hartley the box. The other man nodded and fiddled with his glasses for a moment, looking almost as if he wanted to say something before he whisked out the door. 

When Hartley reached work, once again dripping, he pulled the box out of his pocket and opened it, plucking out the scrap of paper with deft fingers. For a long time, he looked at it, and then stuffed it into his pocket. _After work._ He was running late enough as it was.

**Author's Note:**

> So, I hope you liked it! Reviews are appreciated~ I think I got everyone in-character but I'm never sure, so I love feedback!!


End file.
